"I am sorry you were misled by that preposterous tale," said he softly. "Pardo Lureña is a villain, but we will unmask him. Of course, there was a little truth in his story, but so twisted and distorted that it could not be recognized. Your father will understand, however, and even you will come to see that I am not greatly to blame. A little thoughtlessness, Juan, and a desire to help a friend—no more; but that can wait. You will be sure to come, Juan; you will not fail me?"
"I will do my very best, Don Felipe, for your daughter's sake."
Wishing him farewell, I returned to the chief's hut. He was not there, so I lay down to think out the situation; but my head was in a hopeless muddle. I went into the ravine again, and, watching the soldiers, wondered how the unhappy prisoner hoped to escape them.
As it chanced, his plan was doomed to disappointment. Toward the end of the afternoon I stood chatting with Sorillo and some of his officers, when a messenger rode up the ravine. His horse had travelled far and fast, while he looked worn out with fatigue.
Springing to the ground, he saluted, while the chief cried, "What news, Sanchez? it should be worth hearing!"
"I think it is," replied the man, with a significant smile. "General Canterac is marching on Lima at the head of a Spanish army."
"How many men has he?"
"Nine thousand, perhaps ten—horse, foot, and guns. The advance-guard is not far off."
"Thanks, Sanchez.—Let the men assemble, Barros: a dozen to stay here, the rest to follow me. Has Cerdeña sent word to Lima? Good. He knows his business.—Juan, you will just have time to ride clear, and not much to spare. No doubt Canterac has sent some of his troops by the near cut."
All was bustle and activity in the ravine. Officers issued commands, troopers saddled their horses, muskets were seen to, an extra supply of ammunition was served out, and in a very short time everybody save the few men left to guard the ravine was ready to march.